


There Is Nothing Conventional About Them

by artemis1967



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Sam, Cheating, Hurt Sam, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Dean Winchester, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Top Dean, Voyeurism (kind of), in heat, self-mutilation attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-06-08 02:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15233283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis1967/pseuds/artemis1967
Summary: An alpha and an omega in conflict with their nature.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [calista](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calista/gifts).



> Hi, this is my first attempt to write A/B/O. It's also the first attempt to write something a slightly longer, and with feelings. There will still be pornography, of course, as in the next chapter for example. Have fun!!!

                                                                

The silence between them is comfortable, breathing returning to normal after energetic and hard sex. Muscular and sweaty bodies are resting on the bed, and the rhythm of Sam's heart slowly returns to normal. There is a calm, and Sam feels at peace, body pleasantly sore after having been fucked senseless by his omega brother. There is also concern and insecurity that accompanies it.

Their relationship is unusual. Sam is an alpha, but since he presented – at the age of sixteen – he doesn’t feel like it. He’s a man endowed with empathy, hope, kindness, and compassion, always trying to save as many people as possible. His intellectual side is predominant, and he prefers to solve problems peacefully, resorting to brute force only when there are no alternatives.

The younger hunter always tries to understand people with whom he relates, never making judgments and always willing to listen. His empathy doesn’t exclude supernatural beings, and he will try to understand their motivations first before making any decision. For Sam, everyone deserves a second chance.

In short, Sam is a sweet man, and with puppy eyes capable of convincing anyone.

The big problem is that alphas, as a rule, are aggressive, strong, domineering and full of testosterone. They are leaders and protectors by nature. And except for his height and knot, Sam doesn't resemble an alpha. To make things worse, since his presentation, he feels inadequate because there's no correspondence between his psyche and his body. He's softer and gentler than his brother, and as much as he confronted his father when he was alive, with Dean he's happy to follow his lead.

Obviously, his big brother doesn't behave like an omega. He drives the car, makes most of the important decisions, gets the money – with pool games – has a cocky attitude, makes the style 'shoot first, ask questions later', and is extremely protective and possessive of his younger brother.

Sam sighs deeply, and for the thousandth time, he concludes that he and Dean were born in wrong bodies. Dean should’ve been an alpha and Sam an omega.

“A penny for your thoughts, man.” Dean breaks the silence, and Sam turns sideways to look at him directly. The beautiful green eyes show curiosity and a little concern.

Lost in his thoughts, Sam didn’t realize his brother was watching him, and his heart warms because he knows Dean hates chick flick moments, especially after sex.

"The usual, Dean, angels and demons." His attempt to be evasive is weak, but Sam doesn’t want to upset him with his existential crisis, mainly knowing that Dean also doesn’t feel right in his own skin.

The omega has taken suppressors since his teenage presentation, fighting against his biology, which has worked till now since he never came in heat. He also uses a particular synthetic perfume to disguise his sweetest natural scent. All this allied to his macho man pose and Dean has been able to pass by alpha on most occasions.

There were a few times when he was discovered, and Sam had to interfere by asserting him as his omega, much to the disgust of the older man.

"Alphas, omegas...us…" Dean says quietly, and Sam knows he has always been very perceptive, particularly as far as his little brother is concerned.

The omega is lying on his side, mirroring Sam’s position. He never gets tired of looking at him, a constellation of freckles that spreads across the pale and smooth skin. When Dean is in a good mood, he allows Sam to caress the brown dots with his fingers, and he loves it, watching every reaction it causes on his big brother.

His brother is a handsome man, and because of all the training they’ve had and constant hunts – where the physique is always required – Dean is in good shape. Sam knows every detail of his body: arms and legs well-defined, broad shoulders, angular cheekbones, and full lips that Sam loves to kiss. His brother doesn’t have a six-pack like him, but he thinks it's because of Dean's eating habits and not due to the fact that he's an omega.

"You regret it?"

"What?" His big brother seems genuinely surprised.

"The way we live, denying our natures." He doesn’t want to put more pressure on Dean, but he always wonders:  _What if this isn’t enough? What if he is dissatisfied?_

In the bedroom, they’re unconventional too, and if people knew it, they would probably be shocked. Sam is the omega and Dean is the alpha. Evidently, sex doesn’t involve knotting due to the lack of an essential attribute – the knot – and Sam doesn’t care, at least not much.

He loves being fucked by Dean, despite all necessary preparation since he can’t self-lubricate, like omegas. Even so, the pleasure is immense when his prostate is touched, his knot forming and remaining proud in the middle of his legs.

The desire to knot an omega is strong only when he’s in a rut, time that Sam, usually, isolates himself from Dean, using sex toys that mimic an omega’s hole. He won’t force his brother to an act he hates, or fuck another person, because they are exclusive, and he doesn’t intend to change that.

The seriousness on his brother's features is disconcerting, making arise Sam's insecurity with the kind of relationship they have. All fear of not being enough and that Dean will prefer someone who isn’t a freak like him.

A rough, warm hand reaches Sam's waist, pulling him toward his big brother, their noses almost touching.

"Never, Sammy," Dean's gaze is sincere, and Sam is aware of the effort his brother is making to speak openly about their relationship, "What we have may not be normal for society, but it's everything to me, and it makes me happy.” And Sam believes him, his eyes welling up with tears and a small smile forming on his lips. In a flash, he pulls his big brother in for a sweet and perfect kiss.

When he manages to release his brother and open his eyes, he finds a smile dangled in the corner of Dean’s lips.

"Enough chick flick moment for today, Sammy. How about round two?" Dean raises an eyebrow as his hand moves to squeeze Sam’s ass, and he feels the omega’s growing erection against his hip.

Sam laughs, and he responds by pulling his brother and spreading his legs in an unmistakable invitation. He won’t pass up an opportunity for sex with a man that is the exact definition of sex on legs.

The penetration is easy because Sam is still open, but this time the movements are calmer, without the urgency of before. It doesn’t take long for Sam to feel his knot swell and when he least expects it, he’s coming, drops and more drops of cum making a mess between their bodies.

He wraps his long legs around Dean's waist, pulling the omega deeper inside him. There is only absolute ecstasy on his brother's face.

The thrusts continue for a few more minutes, and then the alpha feels the familiar heat invading its inner walls.

At that moment, an idea begins to form in Sam’s head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry for the delay. I've been busy at work. Porn ahead!

While watching his brother, Sam thinks about the research he has done secretly and his lack of success until now. It's hard not to get discouraged considering he hasn't found any information about what he's looking for.

There must be a solution somewhere. He’s tired of feeling trapped in his own body. It’s as if something is missing, he isn’t complete, and the only certainty is the fullness of its identity would only be achieved if he were an omega.

And it’s ironic that in a world so technologically advanced, yet there’s no medical possibility of anatomical modification of the sexual organ.

Suddenly, the unclean feeling that torments Sam since his childhood resurfaces with full force. As if his past with demon blood isn’t enough, he feels guilty because of his incestuous feelings toward his big brother and discontent with his body.

Maybe if he hadn’t fallen in love with Dean, his brother would have had a chance at a more normal life than the one they live in now. Maybe if he had assumed his alpha nature and mated another person, everything would have been different.

In fact, he’s deceiving himself. Without Dean, there is only despair and pain, as he has experienced more than once in his life. And he doesn’t want that to happen again, or rather, he won’t let it happen at all.

Swallowing the rest of his beer, Sam returns his focus to Dean, who’s playing pool. He notices a change in the atmosphere; the omega’s belligerence is evident as his opponent – an alpha almost as tall as Sam – approaches him with a predatory look.

Without knowing what happened, he gets up quickly from the chair when hears his brother cursing, deciding to interfere because although Dean can hold himself very well against an alpha in hand-to-hand combat, there are at least four of them, as Sam can see. Two are leaning against the wall near the pool table and one behind the alpha arguing with his brother. All of them are muscular and bad looking. There’s no chance that Dean will win this fight, and Sam will have to be very convincing if he wants to get his big brother out of trouble.

"Just what I need, being fooled by a bitch. By the way, what do you do in a bar without your alpha, honey?”

Sam moves between them, preventing a response from Dean and using his height to intimidate the other alpha.

"He has an alpha. I let him play, and you’re not going to talk to my mate like that. Back off!” Sam growls, putting his hand on his jacket and showing the men that he’s armed. He doesn’t intend getting into a fight tonight, especially after the end of a hunt and tired as he is.

As expected, the alpha steps back. Despite large, the men aren’t armed, and it would be stupid to challenge Sam.

Before moving away, however, the alpha who was arguing with his brother warns, "You'd better keep a short leash on your bitch, man, if you don’t want to have trouble in the future.”

Sam decides it isn’t worth reacting to mockery, turning in his brother’s direction when the men move away. His heart hurts as he looks at Dean, who is paralyzed a few steps away. The omega’s face is pure anger and humiliation, arms hanging beside his body and hands clenched into fists. Fists that can be deadly or cause huge damage. But now isn’t the time for this, and Sam knows he needs to get Dean out of the bar urgently, before he arranges more confusion and from which they can’t get out.

Then, without losing time, Sam walks over to Dean, holds his brother's left arm and practically drags him to the Impala. The cold air seems to pull Dean out of his trance, and he releases himself from Sam’s grip on his arm, immediately putting all the anger into words.

"You shouldn’t have interfered, damn it! I don’t need your help, Sam. I'm not a fucking damsel in distress,” he says hostile, challenging Sam to invalidate his logic.

Not wanting to add fuel to the fire, Sam tries to reason with his brother.

"Four alphas, Dean! You couldn't win. I'd say we wouldn't have a chance against them. Did you see the size of them?" Sam thinks that distracting the focus of the omega's nature, it will be easier to placate his brother.

"Stop! If I want your help in a situation like that, I'll let you know. I'm a fucking hunter, man. What do you think will happen when it reaches the other hunters' ears? Do you think they will respect me?"

“Dean...”

"Shut up! I don’t want to hear anything else. Just get in the car.”

Without giving any chance for Sam to answer, the omega walks toward the driver's side, getting into the car. Having no choice, Sam resigns and walks quickly to the passenger’s side.

The drive back to the motel is tense, and Sam thinks that a deeper breath would be enough to break and release the bottled emotions inside his big brother.

Barely the Impala stops in the parking lot, and Dean is opening the door and getting out of the car. Sam shudders when Dean slams the door shut, finally releasing the breath he’s holding. Then he leaves the Impala, preparing himself psychologically to face his brother's fury.

Anger is a survival strategy for Dean, and it's his way of dealing with things beyond his control. He embraces violence and everything that comes with it, including the shame and subsequent guilt for his actions. And even knowing how self-destructive it may be, Sam remains at his brother’s side, accepting him entirely. Besides that, Dean also has many qualities, resulting in a complex man, who’s adored by his little brother.

The steps to the motel room are slow, and he just looks at his brother when he closes the door behind him. The omega stands in the middle of the room, wearing only jeans and waiting. His posture is belligerent, and his gaze is challenging. Dean is especially stunning like that, and a shiver runs through Sam's body.

"You know what to do.” The commanding tone doesn’t admit disobedience.

Sam knows what to do, of course; they have gone through it before. So, he wastes no time, undressing without taking his eyes off the other man. Appealing to Dean's sexuality is a way of trying to appease him, and Sam lets each piece of clothing fall to the floor in the most sensual way he can collect, seeing the effect that the sight of his body causes on the omega.

When he’s completely naked, he approaches Dean, kneeling at his feet. Slowly, he massages the volume beginning to form in the omega’s groin with his face and mouth. The fabric is rough on his skin, but he focuses on his task. When Dean lightly moves his hips, he knows it's time to speed things up a bit. Experienced hands open the button and pull the zipper carefully, sliding the jeans by the omega’s muscular legs, until it’s completely removed and thrown on the floor.

Sam's mouth fills with water as he looks at the gray underwear that barely hides his final goal, the pre-cum making a wet spot on the fabric. Again, he leans his mouth into his brother's crotch, enjoying the rigid volume and the smell of it. It’s stunning, and for a moment he just wants his brother to throw him on the bed and fuck him hard.

Another movement, more impatient, and Sam knows he has no choice now. Then, with one hand, he releases the erection from its confinement, pulling the fabric under his brother's heavy balls. Before beginning, he glances at the omega, which observes him with an inscrutable expression.

Initially, he put just the large tip in his mouth, wrapping one hand around the base, while the other plays with Dean's balls. His tongue explores every inch of the glans before his mouth swallows the length completely. He uses all the spit he can collect to slide easier, giving his brother a good feeling.

Enthusiasm, that's the key, and Sam has a lot of it. He’s good at blow jobs and likes to see his big brother squirm and moans. He also loves the feel of velvety and warm skin filling his mouth.

Tilting his head, he looks at his brother as he increases the pace, his own cock starting to harden between his legs. There’s not much change on Dean's taciturn expression, but Sam is happy when he hears small sounds coming out of the omega's mouth.

Knowing that Dean likes attention to his scrotum, Sam releases the dick into his mouth, licking the full length before sucking one ball at a time. The moans increase a little in volume, and Sam knows the preliminaries are over when he feels a tug at his hair. Dean's green eyes are stormy now.

“Bed.” His brother orders in a low tone, making Sam get up quickly and climb onto the bed, making the traditional sex position of an omega – ass up in the air with his chest into the bed.

For a brief moment, he curses himself – once again – for being an alpha, which doesn’t last long because he feels two wet fingers at his entrance, making little strokes before being thrust into him at once. A scream makes its way out of his throat as his hips involuntarily try to escape the sudden intrusion; however, Dean's left-hand stops his movements, and he sighs deeply, trying to relax.

The scent that hits his nose is bitter, probably caused by Dean's anger, and it doesn’t help much because his brother's smell is often synonymous with home and comfort.

The thick fingers continue to open Sam hastily, and he knows the omega is using his own slick as lube. When the initial discomfort begins to dissipate, Sam feels the fingers leaving his entrance. Then, his legs are spread wide by one warm hand, while the other opens one of his buttocks, exposing his hole, which is gaping by pure reflex.

Sam thinks it must be quite a sight, a strong alpha acting like an omega and entirely at his big brother’s mercy, the omega between them. It’s a taboo, only happening behind closed doors, hidden from everyone's eyes. And in their case, this is more aggravating because they are brothers.

Something hot, wet and much bigger than two fingers is pushed against his opening, and Sam prepares himself, arching his back more. The omega presses forward until the first ring of muscles gives, sliding the rest of the way easily.

Sam gasps, grabbing the sheets and biting his lower lip hard. The preparation isn’t enough, and it hurts. The alpha, however, accepts the punishment because his brother needs it, needs to deal with the humiliation he has suffered, and painful sex is the least destructive way, better than a bottle, which Dean has appealed so many times in the past.

Pain. They are accustomed to it in both forms, physical and emotional, and Sam also needs it to purge his own sins. So, he won’t stop his brother, even being the strongest. He can’t and doesn’t want to.

The first impulses are steady and slow, his brother pulling the member completely out of him before pushing it in again, the omega balls pounding against his ass cheeks.

The pain/pleasure is intense, taking a few seconds for him to get used to the feeling of being so full. His dick, which had diminished considerably, starts to swell again.

“You’re my cock slut, Sammy, understand?” Dean is assertive in his demand while setting a harder pace.

Sam responds moaning and arching his back in a perfect curve like the obedient slut Dean expects him to be.

“This baby, so eager for my cock.”

Sam doesn’t mind the dirty talk, or how much the words denigrate his image; he’s lost in the feeling of the thick member inside him, as well as of the hands over his body and in the desire to be possessed. He has never wanted to perform sexual acts, but rather to receive it from his brother.

The alpha’s whole-body shudders when Dean's cock hits his prostate, toes curling and his cock now completely erect dripping pre-cum on the sheets.

Dean grabs Sam’s long hair in one hand, pulling his head at a painful angle, while the other holds the alpha's shoulder, increasing the force behind his impulses.

There is still a slight residual pain, barely noticed by Sam due to pleasure rushing his body.

“Deal with it, _Alpha_. Do you think you can?” Apparently, his brother decided to be sarcastic.

“Fuck, harder! If you can, of course.” Two can play this game, and Sam will participate, even if he won’t be able to walk straight for a week later.

Intending to instigate the omega more, he moves his hips back, against the strong impulses. It’s as if he has thrown alcohol into the fire, the older man’s ferocity making the headboard hit the wall hard, and Sam is sure there will be marks on the painting. And that is when Sam’s knot starts to form.

"What do you think those alphas would do if they found out that the real bitch of our relationship is you, Sammy? The big bad wolf being bred in a motel bed. They probably might want a piece of this ass too.”

Dean releases Sam's hair, his neck returning to a more normal position, and the omega’s hand closes over his waist in an iron grip, nails digging into his sensitive flesh. The marks must be hidden; he can’t appear in public with marks intended for omegas. Unfortunately, because he would be proud to show the world he has an owner.

Suddenly, Dean pulls his cock out roughly, and the emptiness Sam feels is indescribable, his entrance continually contracting in search of the missing member. To Sam’s delight, this doesn’t last long, and he’s filled by three thick fingers while a hand is slamming his buttocks hard, making him groan loudly. He moves his ass against the hand invading him, and the need for friction on his prostate is urgent now that he's so close to coming, his knot fully formed.

When he’s about to explode literally, his brother pulls his fingers out, pushing him hard on the mattress. It’s ungraceful, and Sam collapses against the sheets, hardly having time to breathe when he’s maneuvered on his side, the right leg bent, as the omega kneels near his ass. Then Sam feels his leg being lifted by Dean's hand and the swollen member entering him once more.

He’s still on edge, the pain still present, but it’s diffuse and doesn’t avoid him from enjoying sex, especially when he’s being hammered on the mattress by the omega’s powerful thrusts.

Needing support against the force moving him on the bed, Sam grips the edge of the mattress tightly, snarling as he feels the pheromones released by the omega, stronger because of the anger Sam can still see on Dean’s handsome face. Dean is growling, sweat dripping down his temples and eyes fixed on Sam. He’s still defiant, still wants to punish, and Sam understands. So, in the most steady voice he can muster, he begs.

“Make me cum, Dean.”

A nod, a small smile at the corner of Dean's lips and Sam’s being maneuvered easily to the edge of the bed. The omega positions him face down on it – diagonally – each of his legs on the side of one of the corners of the mattress.

Sam turns his face and sees Dean standing on the floor between his open legs. Fingers probe his abused entrance again, caressing his ass cheeks then, which are still hot from the previous smacks.

Dean's cock returns to the place he belongs, and Sam's fists find support on the crumpled sheets, teeth clenched as he groans. Hands tighten on Sam’s hips, and the sounds of sex echoing in the bedroom create a unique and perfect atmosphere. His balls are full, and with one hand he wraps them, squeezing it lightly and ignoring his dick, that is pounding against his belly with the movements. He prefers not to touch it.

Subsequently, he tilts his neck, submitting to the omega, and the bite he feels then is merely symbolic. Dean will not mark him as he would like, or rather, as both would like because he can’t; an alpha being marked by an omega is a crime in the society in which they live. He resents this but tries to be happy with what he has for now.

And the moment his brother's teeth touch Sam’s skin fire spreads through his body, and he comes as strong as ever, seeing stars behind his eyes. The anal muscles involuntarily squeeze for a few seconds, and Dean stops, waiting for Sam's spasms to subside.

The intensity of the orgasm leaves Sam limp against the sheets, and he doesn’t have the strength to participate when Dean starts fucking him again. Steady hands at his waist keep him in place while the omega’s cock moves in and out of him in quick and sharp movements.

The knot against his belly begins to diminish without an omega’s hole to shelter it, and the wet spot beneath him should be uncomfortable; however, it’s as if his brain is wrapped in cotton, his muscles loose and languid. The focus only returns when Sam feels the hot liquid being spread in his interiors and hears the omega’s cry, which most resembles a beast’s roar.

Dean, at least, has the decency to not collapse on top of him, lying down beside Sam’s head on the bed. The look he sees on the omega’s face calms him a bit. There is serenity that wasn’t there before, a certain conformism.  
  
"Are you alright?"

"Of course, Dean.” He tries to put all the sincerity in his words, but he thinks it's best not to mention that he's an alpha and can handle much more than that.

A firm hand on his jaw moves his head until he faces his brother's worried eyes.

"Sammy…don’t lie to me."

"Dude, I'm not made of porcelain. It needs a lot more to hurt me,” he says impatiently, tapping lightly on the hand holding his face.

A little more scrutiny, and Dean seems to be convinced that Sam is telling the truth.

"Okay, princess. Cleaning and then sleeping. Tomorrow we have to get up early to return to the bunker.”

Sam agrees, making an effort to move his tired limbs. What happened tonight isn’t going to be mentioned anymore by them. It's unnecessary, and everything will continue as always, until the next bar and the next fight.

Half an hour later, Dean's head is resting on Sam’s shoulder, and he inhales the omega’s scent, much nicer now that there’s no more anger.

As he closes his eyes, his older brother's desolation in the bar appears in his mind and the heart pounding in his chest hurts for Dean and himself, for what they can’t have. Sam misses the bond, which can only be formed with the claim, and it won’t happen while he’s an alpha and Dean’s an omega.

His arms tighten around the sleeping man, and he makes a promise not to give up. As soon as they return to the bunker, he will resume the search and won’t rest until he finds a solution or will die trying.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! A little angst and more sex.

The silence in the bunker's library is oppressive. His brother left just a few hours ago to get supplies, and Sam already misses him, and the bickering, the interruptions and all the attention he gets from Dean.

The omega has no idea what he’s researching and didn’t seem curious about all the hours of Sam on a laptop or in the library. Dean didn’t ask questions either, and Sam thinks the omega might be suspicious, but he won’t say anything for a while. False expectations are worse than none.

A deep sigh and his attention returns to the book in his hands; it’s the last of the session dedicated to the Sumerians. There’s mention of a ritual called urushdaur, and its purpose is the usurpation of bodies, in which would occur the absolute change of bodies. It's not what Sam wants, and he closes the book forcefully, frustrated.

Many years have passed since his presentation as alpha, and he still doesn’t identify with this part of him. The image he has of himself doesn’t adapt to what he is. The memory of the weeks after his presentation is painful, and he sighs. There weren’t enough tears, all of them filled with anger and frustration. Dean helped the best he could, and sometimes he still feels like that teenager, lost and having trouble to find his place in society.

Denying his own sexual organ has had no practical effect at all. And although they have a lot of fun when the topic is sex, the sense of incompleteness never really leaves him, as well as the feeling that something is wrong with him and the disconnection he feels from other people. This feeling that he didn’t fit in always accompanied him and directed some of his decisions, as Stanford.

Even with Jess there was a fragile sense of normalcy. The beta seemed to understand his insecurities and frustrations, being more a great friend than something else. That lasted until Jess's death, which forced him back into the hunt.

Not long afterward, he and his brother succumbed to the sexual tension that had existed between them since adolescence. Despite all the initial guilt, he surrendered – body and soul – to his omega. He knows that what they have is twisted, but it’s also unique and pure in a way, and he sincerely hopes to find something soon, so they can live the fullness of their lives forever.

It takes him a moment to realize he has received a message. The noise of the phone being acknowledged seconds later. Dean's words merely tell him to prepare.

Sam knows exactly what Dean means, and a smile appears on his face; the excitement making him forget his troubles for now.

Naturally, he obeys the omega’s command without delay. The steps to the bathroom are determined, and the bath doesn’t take long, although he has to pay particular attention to his intimate parts.

Then he lies down on the bed and opens himself efficiently, stopping only when three fingers come in and out of his ass easily. It's much better when Dean does this, but he knows that what his brother has planned will be extremely pleasurable. When Dean goes into sex mode, it's hard to remain indifferent. The omega has a great appreciation for sex, as well as a lot of experience. Sam, on the other hand, just relaxes and enjoys while the omega works his body in every small aspect. In the end, he’s usually a mess, overwhelmed by so many sensations.

Satisfied with the result and still feeling the wet of the lube inside him, he puts some t-shirt and sweatpants, deciding to start the dinner preparation. In the kitchen, involved with the vegetable cut, Sam doesn’t notice Dean's approach, jumping when the older man puts a warm hand on his waist, while the other covers his eyes.

“Dean!” He cries out.

“The only one,” the omega says without moving.

“I need you to trust me, Sammy. Can you do this?” The question doesn’t make sense, and Sam would roll his eyes if it were possible.

“Of course, Dean. Ever.” Dean's breath hot against his ear is enough to wake his member, which starts to harden.

His eyes are blindfolded with what he imagines it’s a tie by texture, and his clothes are removed. Then he’s guided through the corridors to the laundry room. Sam is very good at recognizing his surroundings, remembering when he was captured by the vampires who are led by Lenore and how he was able to return to the nest with Dean even being blindfolded at the time of his capture. 

They stop, and Sam feels two strong hands on his waist lifting him up easily – that would be difficult for someone else, but not for Dean. He’s placed on what he perceives to be the washing machine, that Dean insisted on installing to make their lives easier. Much better to wash the bloodstained clothes of the hunts without the scrutiny of unknown people in different laundries.

His nails are digging into Dean’s shoulders, and he jumps when the machine starts the wash cycle. Dean’s hands squeeze his waist, and he presses his chest into Sam’s, kissing his long neck gently. The humming from the engine and the lack of vision amplify every sensation in Sam’s body.

The kiss starts soft, getting hot fast as Sam's groans increase in volume. As usual, he falls into Dean's arms as the omega alternates between sucking his tongue and biting his lips lightly. Soon Sam feels Dean's mouth on his neck again, and small hickeys are alternated with slight bites, making him squirm.

At the same time as Dean's mouth drops down to his collarbone, strong hands massage his thighs and the part of the buttocks that isn’t in contact with the washing machine. Dean bites Sam's right nipple, licking it and passing to the other not long after.

Sam gasps, the blindfold increasing the sensation of pleasure, his cock a hard line against his belly, and he doesn’t even try to contain his groans. By the way, his nipples are very sensitive, and he loves it when Dean touches them with mastery. Too early, the hot tongue makes a wet trail to his navel, coming in and out of the little hole a few times.

The omega maintains a balance between provocation and pleasure, transforming Sam's body into a living thread of nerves. From an early age, he always enjoyed being at the reception of the act, his organism sensitized in such a way that to have satisfactory arousal he needs of the passivity. And his sexual response every time Dean fucks him is the same: the absolute surrender to his partner.

He groans when Dean finally reaches his aching cock; the hot tongue is initially mapping the glans. He feels a hand bending his legs over the machine and the other holding his member. The omega continues licking his cock until, without warning, he swallows the entire length at once, making Sam almost fall out of the washing machine.

Sam's surprise isn’t unfounded since Dean avoids touching his dick when they're fucking, and blow jobs are even more unusual. He knows the behavior is due to the fact Sam has a knot, which the omega doesn’t like to touch, probably because it’s the symbol of masculinity that Dean wants to have.

Sam doesn’t blame him, nor does insist on the issue, but if Dean is willing, he'll enjoy it as much as he can because the mouth wrapped around his dick is the most sinful and beautiful thing he knows, although he can’t see it now.

A hand caresses his testicles, massaging them lightly between thick fingers. The mouth leaves his cock, and the small licks return until Dean swallows his erection entirely again, and he feels his knot thicken slightly.

Fingers caress Sam's perineum, going down slowly to his lubed and stretched hole. The touches are gentle and don’t penetrate the small pink entrance.

Sam shakes, a little stunned with his hormones on fire. It's all so vivid, and even blindfolded he can visualize every movement of the omega on his cock. Suddenly, Dean's mouth leaves it, and Sam’s back is pushed against the machine, legs open indecently and ass exposed.

The tie is taken from his eyes, and he can see that the omega is also affected by what’s happening: pupils dilated and almost covering all the green of the eyes, red lips swollen and wet with saliva, a pink tone covering all his skin, and the short strands of hair messed up. He’s handsome, and Sam feels the same feeling in his stomach of when they surrendered to the desire, the lust for his big brother never declined, even after so many years together.

The omega gets closer, setting himself between Sam's open legs and rubbing the spongy head of his cock on Sam's entrance. The friction is delicious, making Sam groans, almost muffled by the noise of the washing machine.

Dean slowly inserts the head, biting his lower lip and looking directly into Sam's eyes, who holds onto the edge of the machine and tries to relax to accommodate the erection sliding tortuously inside his most intimate part. Soon Dean's cock is completely inside, filling Sam in all the right places.

“So tight, Sammy,” are the first words spoken after a long time.

“Dean,” it’s Sam's only response, and he would like to call his brother alpha, but he can’t; it wouldn’t be appropriate. It’s hard for him to think straight, so he focuses his attention on the pulsing heat inside him and the vibrations caused by the washing machine.

The omega starts his impulses slowly, removing his cock entirely before inserting it again, heavy balls hitting Sam's ass cheeks. The intensity of Sam's groans increases, as does the speed of Dean's thrusts, now rivaling with the noise of the washing machine.

“Fuck, Dean, hard!” Sam manages to beg, his knot swelling the rest of the way.

“As you wish, princess,” he says cheery, and Sam doesn’t know how the omega still has enough concentration to provoke him.

When Sam can formulate an answer, however, he has to hold onto the edge of the washing machine with force to handle with the barrage of thrusts against his ass.

Unexpectedly Sam starts to come, fire pooling low in his abdomen and eyes closing because of the intensity of it; the washing machine ending its cycle at the same time.

Sam feels his brother’s impulses falter as he clenches his ass repeatedly, an abundance of come spreading through his own belly and chest.

A different smell invades Sam’s nose, and it’s sweet and slight in principle. He has never felt anything like this before; the knot that was already diminishing is forming all over again. He barely notices the thick heat filling him up because the smell is getting stronger, and the second the omega falls into him he understands what's going on.

Fear spreads through his body, especially when the omega lifts his head from his chest and stares at Sam with terrified green eyes.

Dean’s definitely going in heat...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! A bit of Dean's POV in this chapter. About his heat, it's nothing very graphic.

The solid door on his back is a constant reminder that he can’t reach his big brother, nor relieve the pain he must be feeling. Sitting on the floor, Sam embraces his knees, the tall body shrunk and looking much smaller than his actual size.

He wonders if he is not making a mistake in letting the omega go through this alone. And the guilt for agreeing to Dean's plan corrodes his soul. He promised not to interfere, but was that the right decision?

The room his brother locked himself in is a kind of panic room: armored, soundproofed, and with camera monitoring system, so whoever is inside is able to know what is happening outside. It has a bathroom, water, and non-perishable food, allowing the survival of two people for at least a month. And it's practically impenetrable because of the sigils and spells.

Dean didn’t want to take any chances of succumbing to his biology, or arousing Sam's instincts and getting tied up. Then he isolated himself, and Sam is pure affliction now.

Raising his head from his hidden place on the knees, Sam decides he needs more information. He stands up and walks swiftly to the library. Research is his specialty, and he will make sure that the omega’s life isn’t in danger. Because if he’s, Sam won’t measure efforts to get to his brother, even against his will. The important thing is the survival, the rest they can handle after all is over.

*****

Dean’s life comes down to whimpering in pain, and he completely lost track of time. One of his worst nightmares coming true. The biggest, of course, is the loss of his little brother, but that one is equally terrifying. The confirmation of everything he has always denied in his life, that he’s nothing but a slut, a slave of his biology.

His body is burning, wanting something that he doesn’t wish to, and never wanted to. Besides that, his body is wet with sweat and other fluids he'd rather not even think about.

_Everything will be fine_ , and _I can get through it_ has become an endless mantra in his mind.

He knows if he succumbs to it, his life will never be the same again. The identity he created for himself will be irretrievably lost. The word resistance comes into his brain, and he clings to it.

Sam's toys, the ones he's always made fun of, help relieve the need a little, but he's still on the edge.

He tries to focus on his sweet little brother, knowing how much the younger man must be worried. It's his fault, of course, but he can’t risk their proximity in this situation. An omega in heat can trigger an aggressive sexual response in an alpha, and that would inevitably destroy everything they have built up over the years.

His hands shake as they open the lid of the water bottle. The act of bringing it to his mouth is comparable to that of climbing a mountain. When the object finally reaches its destination and the water slides through his dry throat, it’s a relief, although temporarily. There’s not enough water in the world to put out the fire that consumes him.

His stomach and groin hurt, and his erection never seems to end. Closing his eyes, he lets out a low groan, searching for relief to his aching cock on the sheets beneath him.

Using his memory, he tries to distract attention from his afflictions by thinking about his brother's body and how much he likes to fuck the younger man, to feel the tight little ass hugging his cock like a mold, made just for it. Being inside Sam is the natural route between them and not the other way around. He knows all the erogenous zones of the tall body and has immense pride and pleasure in making the alpha fall apart under his hands.

Sam loves being touched on his nipples, behind the ear and in the middle of his thighs, and Dean longs to touch and lick every inch of him. He wants his little brother's tanned skin against his to relieve the pain, but this isn’t possible, he won’t take any risk in this situation.

Then he squeezes his hands tightly until his fingernails dig into the palm, producing blood, and it keeps him grounded for now.

Suddenly, memories of hell arise in his mind: torture and the smell of blood and sulfur. He can scent both of them now, and it's so strong that he thinks he's going to choke on it. The soul’s faces he tortured making a succession of images, and he remembers every method of torture he used. He was Alastair's favorite student after all.

The omega turns his attention to his aching body again, wanting only relief, wanting everything to end. A new wave of heat and he writhes on the bed, calling out a single name: Sam.

Everything starts to spin, and his last thought before passing out is that maybe he isn’t as strong as he thought he was.

*****

Long fingers move quickly through the keyboard, and tired eyes pay attention to every word appearing on the screen. Sam devours all the information about omegas in heat. He doesn’t miss any detail, even though small, not wanting to put his brother's life in danger.

Details of the heat are described minutely by the omegas themselves, and there is no risk of death for non-bonded omegas.

Still, every reported suffering is a punch to Sam's stomach, knowing how much his brother is suffering. He would change places with Dean without blinking, but, unfortunately, that’s not something he can do.

Somewhat relieved with what he has found, Sam returns to his post by the door. The long wait consumes him, and he’s not sure what his reaction would be if Dean decided to open the door. It seems that his emotions are forever in conflict, at the same time that he would like to relieve his brother's pain, he doesn’t want to have to do that. It would change both irremediably.

Other questions also worry him: what if after the heat Dean wants an alpha? What if he decides to assume his true nature because isn’t worth the suffering? What if Dean wants him to be his alpha?

There is no easy answer to any of these questions, and countless scenarios run in his head. He lifts his legs up to his chest, hugging his knees tightly, and begins to pray; it’s the only thing he can do at the moment.

*****  
The colors are so vivid that he feels he can see clearly for the first time in many years. He watches every detail of the muscular body in front of him, but he feels shy and exposed lying on the big bed while the alpha looks hungry at him.

He knows the alpha is being affected by his smell, especially by the sweet scent of the slick he’s producing abundantly, to the point of wetting the sheets underneath him. Opening the legs is an automatic response, and it’s exactly what he does.

The alpha isn’t the only one affected, pheromones increasing his desire too. The approach is slow and sensual, the big and erect cock signaling that the alpha is also ready for mating.

The first touch against his skin causes different sensations, novelty and familiarity all at once. He’s irretrievably lost; forever. Life only makes sense being an omega and with his alpha, his soulmate.

The alpha slides between his legs, and it’s perfect. Warm lips brush his, just teasing, and he moves his head in search of the red lips. When the alpha finally kisses him, it’s passionate and demanding, tongue seeking entrance without any ceremony.

The friction between their cocks, however, isn’t enough, and he needs the alpha inside him. He’s ready, his body ready to be tied. He arches his back and groans in the alpha’s mouth; the need directing the other man to where he most desires.

The alpha is hung over, but there’s no pain when he’s finally full with the sizable member. Moaning at the sensation, he throws his head back, eyes scrunching tight while pleasure invades his whole body.

A few or several impulses later – he doesn’t know for sure – the knot is swelling. The sensation is new to him, and by the time they are finally tied up the omega is a tremendous pile and moaning because of the intensity of pleasure.

However, he still misses something; something he has been waiting for a long time and that will finally leave his life complete: the claim.

From the alpha’s look, he understands his emotions. A small smile and a shake of his head is all the necessary communication between them, both according to what will happen.

The handsome alpha slowly lowers his head towards his neck, smelling and kissing it gently. Despite the anxiety dominating his body, he relaxes the neck muscles, ready like never before for such a special act.

When he finally feels the bite on his neck, everything disappears, and he opens his eyes to face Dean’s worried green eyes.

“It's about time you woke up, Sammy! You scared me.” His voice is hoarse, and Sam doesn’t know if it's because of the lack of use or the probable screams he couldn’t hear.

His big brother looks like if he was thrown under the bus: tired, unshaven, with red eyes and dirty and greasy hair; even so, Sam has never seen anything more beautiful.

“Oh, God, Dean!” Sam sits quickly on the floor, throwing himself on top of his brother without any hesitation, hugging him tightly. His head finds its way up to his brother’s neck, and he clings to the omega as he did when they were kids. He knows he's being childish but can’t help it; he needs to relieve some of his pain.

Arms he knows so well tighten around him. As much as he tries to stop it, his eyes fill with tears, some escaping into Dean's skin. He wants to ask if his brother is okay, yet he can’t, too overwhelmed by all the suffering that came with the anguish of the waiting and uncertainty.

“It's okay, Sammy. I’m fine.” As always, Dean activates his big brother mode, and Sam is grateful for it. He needs it, even for a few minutes.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” It turns into a litany of words while he hugs the omega tight.

“It's not your fault, Sammy. None of this is your fault. We're gonna be okay.”

He tries to believe, from the bottom of his heart; he really wants to believe in his brother's words, but he doesn’t know if he can.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's important to explain why I didn’t choose switch things between the boys. For me, Sam fucking Dean in this situation would be considered dubious consent, and it’s not the purpose of the fic. In fact, there is already a lot of fic with bottom! Dean/dubcon with Sam being the bad guy. Sorry, but it won’t happen here.
> 
> More drama in the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

There was a significant change in their relationship. The omega didn’t touch him anymore, sexually of course. And all of Sam's attempts were unsuccessful, usually avoided with excuses as “ _I'm tired_ ”, “ _We have no time now_ ” and other equally poor.

He doesn’t understand what is happening with his brother. After his small collapse in Dean's arms, they talked a little. The omega gave few details of what happened to him during the seven days of his heat. It was not enough, however, and Sam insisted a lot, but Dean can be stubborn as a mule.

Sam also did some research but couldn’t figure out what went wrong with the medication that made the omega to enter in heat. It probably wouldn’t have made any difference anyway.

Dean's indifference has been a constant recently, and Sam feels lost, not knowing what to do, or how to recover what they had before.

“Sam?” Dean's voice drives him away from his thoughts. “I found a hunt in Nevada. The victims have been found mutilated and local authorities have no theory about what’s happening. Pack your stuff,” the omega says barely looking at him and already leaving the library.

Dean's rough treatment over the last few days is nothing new, but it still hurts, and Sam gets up slowly to pack his bags. And for the first time in years he has no desire to spend long hours confined in the car with his big brother.

*****

The hunt was relatively easy, and they controlled to kill the rugaru in two days. After, at the Dean's insistence, he agreed to go to one of the local bars; unfortunately, since what he’s seeing hurts a lot. 

The first time he caught Dean flirting with a girl again, he didn’t care, after all his brother never stopped being gallant. But when it happens so often and blatantly in front of him, Sam knows something is wrong, mainly because there is a real intention in the green eyes that he loves so much. The girl hitting on his brother is a beta, very beautiful and delicate, the complete opposite of Sam.

The conversation between them tonight is restricted to a few observations about the hunt and the city, having become practically unilateral in the last seconds; Dean's whole focus moving toward the girl.

Without being able to take it anymore, Sam decides to return to the motel. But his brother precedes him, getting up, “Don’t wait for me,” he says, already walking toward the girl.

Too shocked to do anything, he just watches while the omega and the girl leave the bar. Sam only realizes that he broke the glass that was in his hand when feels the sharp pain in his palm; blood, broken glass and beer making a mess on the table.

A waitress tries to help, but he doesn’t want to be touched, not by her at least. He comes out of his trance, wraps his hand in a handkerchief, pays the bill and leaves the bar quickly, not wanting to get more attention.

There is no sign of the Impala in the parking lot, and his disappointment increases. He starts walking; each step making Sam remember the pain in his hand. And it keeps him going, although his desire is to sit in the middle of the asphalt, close his eyes and give up everything. He doesn’t know how to deal with rejection, especially when it’s caused by his number one stone. Without Dean he’s nothing, a shadow wandering without any destination.

When Sam arrives at the motel, his hand is throbbing so much he wants to throw up. Taking a painkiller, he takes care of his injuries, seeing they aren’t serious, sighing with relief when noticing there is no need for stitches, which would be hard to do with his left hand.

Years training kicks in, and he ends the bandage efficiently, but Dean's betrayal takes first place in his thoughts again.

Guilt is all that remains for him. He should have been more insistent, made his brother talk and tried to sort things out; however, Sam didn’t want to be invasive, and now everything seems to be falling apart.

Lying in bed, he closes his eyes, determined to wait for the omega, but the painkiller does the effect, and the sleep reaches him before he realizes.

****

The sun coming through a crack in the curtain wakes him up just as he hears the sound of the Impala's engine.

Dean spent the night away.

The omega opens the door, entering the room without even looking at Sam, hands busy with packages.

“I brought breakfast,” Dean says cheerfully.

Ignoring the elephant in the room won’t solve anything, and Sam asks, “Did you fuck her?”

The answer is obvious, the beta’s smell coming from Dean, but he wants the admission.

For the first time since entering the room, Dean looks at him. There is no guilt or remorse on his face, only indifference.

“What do you think?”

“I made a question, the least you can do is be honest with me…” Sam’s voice fails on the last word.

“Yeah.” The omega looks away, but not before Sam could see a certain embarrassment.

“Why?” That's all he wants to know.

“Sam…I don’t think…”

“I need to know, Dean,” Sam interrupts, finally demonstrating his anger. “What happened to our promise to be exclusive?” He insists, despite the pain and without knowing if he’s ready to hear the answer.

“I need some time, Sam.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what is happening.

“Wait, let me explain. After my heat, I'm not sure about a lot of things, and I think we need to take a break. Reevaluate our choices.”

It's like he's stuck in a nightmare. His brother's words don’t make sense, nothing makes sense.

“Dean...”

“It’s all I have to say Sam for now.” His brother’s stoic face is betrayed by the tension in his eyes.

“But...” Sam can’t accept this.

“Please, Sammy.”

_Numb_. He’s not able to feel. A few seconds pass; a small nod is all he does before getting up and practically running to the relative privacy of the bathroom, not wanting to have a collapse in front of the omega.

“What happened to your hand?” He hears his brother's worried voice.

“Nothing important,” Sam answers before knocking the bathroom door and entering the shower, where the water takes care of washing the traces of his pain.

*****

_Two months later..._

Sam curses himself for agreeing to it, but it's too late now. Mad because of the omega’s promiscuous behavior – a different woman every night – he decided to hunt a werewolf with two other alphas, who didn’t want to work with an omega.

Sam’s satisfaction was immense when he saw Dean's betrayed gaze, but now, beaten and tied to a chair while waiting for his captors’ return, Sam knows he made a terrible mistake.

With his head and ribs aching, he tries to think of a way out. There is none. Handcuffs catch his wrists and ankles, and with nothing able to get them open, he will remain trapped.

The other two hunters were taken away one at a time. Not knowing what happened, Sam guesses they're probably dead, and he's going to be next. Nevertheless, there’s no fear of death, and his only regret is that he won’t get a chance to apologize to his brother, to say how much he still loves him after all.

In the months following Dean's heat, Sam discovered a batch of suppressors failed. Only that the happiness of his discovery didn’t alter their situation, and Sam suspects that Dean's behavior is related to the fear that his heat will happen again.

His attempts to talk to the omega resulted in nothing, and Dean kept distantly. The barrier that his brother created around himself practically impenetrable.

Sam, after the initial shock, falls into a state of denial. His heart knows their relationship is gone, but his mind can’t accept it, always questioning the mistakes that have been made.

Unfortunately, at this very moment, tied to a chair in an unknown place, there’s no longer any hope, and worst of all is that he won’t get another chance to fix things with his brother.     

Breathing deeply, he tries to control the panic when hears footsteps that stop in front of the door. With his throat dry and heart racing, he sees movement in the doorknob, preparing himself for the worst. When the omega enters through the door – dirty and bleeding from a cut in his eyebrow – he wants to cry.

“Dean?” He asks, and it’s nothing more than a whisper.

“What do you think, dumbass?” All Dean's bravado is an act because the relief is clear on the dirty face.

Dean opens the shackles in seconds.

“Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

“C’mon,” the omega says while helping Sam get up. With his left arm over Dean’s shoulder and a firm hand on his waist he can walk, albeit a little wobbling.

“Wait. What about the other hunters?”

“Dead.”

A shiver goes through his body, the feeling of guilt strong in his chest.

The return to the car is slow, and the smell of blood from dead bodies on the way is nauseating. Sam looks for comfort in his brother’s scent, even knowing what he will have to face when they return to the motel.

He’s deposited in the passenger seat carefully, and Dean comes back to set fire to the house.

When he sees the flames spreading through the wood his relief turns to apprehension. The uncertainty about their relationship as devastating as the fire consuming the house.

The silence during the return to the motel is oppressive, but not surprising. Sam shrinks in the seat as much as he can, and the guilt rushes over him again.

His wounds are superficial: bruised ribs and wrists and a bump on the head. Sam will survive.

Dean is extremely professional while taking care of him, and every touch of the omega on his skin is a blessing and a torture at the same time. He misses Dean's hands on his body and the sexy touches that often make him crazy.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers when Dean finishes and walks away from him. The tension is evident in every line of the omega’s body.

“You screwed it up this time, Sam.” Dean stares at him. “You’ve put your life at risk, and two hunters are dead, even though those two idiots won’t be missed. We knew the pack was big and dangerous and yet you left me out.”

The words are worse than punches.

“I'll say it just once. If we're going to continue working together, never let me out again. And _never_ treat me like a fucking omega again.”

With his eyes full of tears, Sam barely sees when his big brother takes his jacket and the keys of the Impala, leaving the room in a hurry.

The door banging makes him jump, the tears finally falling.

_It’s over._

Any remote chance that they might go back to what they had before is ruined and all because of him. Besides that, he will also have to live with the guilt for the death of two more people.

He closes his eyes and lets the grief swallow him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! I'm sorry for the delay, but I don't have much time to write lately.  
> The next chapter is almost ready, however, and I don't intend to take too long to publish it.

“I’m going out,” his brother says as he walks up the stairs.

It's the third time this week, and Sam remains silent. Anyway, what he has to say wouldn’t change the omega’s behavior.

Sam closes the book he's reading, a copy of ancient rituals in Mesopotamia. After much reflection, Sam decided to continue with his initial plan, even though Dean is no longer part of it. Although his brother was the main reason for Sam to change, the questions about his sexuality remain unsolved.

Tired of so much anguish, he decides to drink. The omega is more likely to drown his sorrows in alcohol, but particularly today he needs to forget his pain a little.

The burning sensation in his throat with the first sip of whiskey is welcome, the heat spreading over his face then. His resistance to distilled drinks isn’t too great, and it doesn’t take long for him to feel the effects of alcohol.

As a result, his feelings of imperfection come out, and the persistent discomfort with his own sex that never abandons him. The strong inadequacy in the social role as alpha has always been constant in his life. A feeling of incompetence becomes known. He isn’t the alpha that should be, nor the omega that wants to be. In his life, he never considered himself alpha and never recognized himself in that role, although he’s seen as one by society. He’s a freak, a disappointment, and has the impression that he will never be good enough.

Unfortunately, not all the alcohol in the world can fix what he is. He no longer knows how to express his pain or what to do with it. But a certain urgency invades him at some point; it's his breaking point.

Maybe there is a way. What he needs is the control of his own body and life.

Leaving the bottle aside, he gets up and goes to Dean's room. Opening the door with determination, he walks over to his brother's bed. The memory foam is Dean's pride and where they've had countless good times. No longer.

The knife he wants is in its usual place, under the omega’s pillow. The intention is to cause pain that he’s capable of dealing with. He needs to calm his emotions, and maybe all he needs is to focus on something else.

His gaze turns to the details in his brother's room, and he remembers how Dean got excited setting it up. The weapons on the wall, a picture of Dean with mom and so many other details added by his big brother with affection.

Tears come to his eyes, but he takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself. Wailing won’t fix anything. It's about time he understood that.

With one last look at the picture of Dean and his mother, he leaves the bedroom, heading toward his own, knife firmly in his right hand.

In the shelter of his bedroom, he puts the knife on the dresser with reverence. Then each piece of clothing falls on the floor, but the gesture is mechanical; there is no sensuality or lust as in other times that he has done it to his brother. His eyes are fixed on the knife.

Taking off his clothes is easy, and he looks at himself in the mirror, everything is too big for his liking. His frame is that of a typical alpha, and no one would ever mistake him for an omega.

The need to hurt himself is strong now, and maybe the pain will make him feel something other than Dean's absence. He aches for his brother and lover, deep in his soul.

On the other hand, he’s tired of letting people down, especially of letting Dean down.  
  
One hand reaches the knife over the dresser, the fingers – very large as well – tighten around the handle. He moves it toward his body, and the first touch of the cold blade with the skin makes him shiver, but his eyes remain fixed in the mirror.

He barely recognizes himself. His hair is dirty, and there are dark circles under his eyes. Dean is right about not wanting him anymore. His failure has extended to all aspects of his life in recent months, including the physical.

He moves the knife to his chest, circling one nipple, then the other, slightly, remembering a particularly difficult episode that happened when he was in Stanford. It was a hazing to get into Alpha Epsilon Pi, and even against his will, he was forced to participate, as were the other freshmen alphas. And his indignation began when he saw five naked omegas in the center of a circle painted on the floor. Everything got worse when his turn came up, and he couldn’t fuck the omega intended for him. The girl's scary look – which he will never forget – had a direct effect on his body, and he couldn’t even stay hard. All he could think about was his brother and how he would never want something like that to happen to Dean. So, collecting all the authority he could find under those circumstances, he had faced the veterans and said he wasn’t going to do that. The fraternity’s alphas were shocked by his behavior, and the rebellion was punished exemplary. 

They made him stay naked for the rest of the hazing, and on his body were written words with red paint, like omega, whore, slut and other degrading. Because of his alpha status, he couldn’t be physically injured, but the message was potent. The nakedness had left him exposed and devoid of dignity. Even with all his training, Sam couldn’t fight so many alphas to defend the omegas. Consequently, he ended up submitting himself to the foolishness of those stupid frat boys. When the hazing was over, he was admitted to the fraternity but he was often pointed out as an aberration, as well as being the subject of inopportune jokes about his masculinity. Sam survived all that, although there are still sadness and anger as he remembers the fear and guilt because of the impossibility of defending the poor Omegas.

The emptiness of his soul is immense, and it can only be filled with tears – that have already dried up – and blood – it’s the alternative. And the will to assault his body grows as he moves the knife down his belly until he reaches his thighs.

Dean’s blade is sharp, and he presses the edge of it into his right thigh, but without cutting the skin. It would be so easy. It's like flirting with the enemy. He's hanging on by a wire.

The flaccid member in his groin catches his attention. Moving his long fingers, he holds it, the knife having a new purpose. The hated knot isn’t visible without an erection, and he flirts with the possibility of cutting it out. The skin there is more sensitive than that of the thigh, and a red scratch forms at the base where he’s moving the knife.

Would Dean still want him mutilated? It’s doubtful since his brother barely supports him now. Without a piece of his anatomy, Dean would find him weak, unable to deal with what he is.

Turn out that everything has lost its meaning. A new way is what he needs. Determined, he tries to cut the skin, the brightness of the blade able to capture the image of his eyes. However, he fails. The rationality prevents the final act. The skin and his hated knot remain intact.

Bursting with anger, he throws the knife against the wall, which falls to the floor with a thud. This isn’t the best solution. This doesn’t solve anything. He doesn’t need more blood, especially his own, because there is already so much blood in his hands, from the years of hunting.

Sam looks at himself in the mirror again and remembers all the women that Dean rubbed in his face.

Anger finally takes over him, and it’s a different emotion from all the others he has felt in these torturous months. He always tries to control his anger, afraid of what may happen, because of all his history with demon blood. At this moment, however, it’s necessary for his survival and sanity.

He will try to get out of the pit he has gotten himself into. Narrowing his eyes and lifting his head, Sam already knows what he needs to do.

It’s payback time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! Dean's POV in this chapter.

It's after midnight, and Dean is sitting in his favorite place at the bar, drinking and looking around without really paying attention.

That’s the third time this week he goes out at night, but he doesn’t get any girl. His thoughts turned to a specific pair of puppy dog eyes. Always attentive to his little brother needs, he didn’t lose the red eyes, long sighs and look of sadness. He even witnessed the alpha crying late at night in his bedroom and did nothing about that.

Dean hates himself for hurting his brother. After all, he went to Hell for him and always did everything to keep him alive.

The thing is that his heat was a scary experience, and he doesn’t want a repeat of those bad moments.

After the turbulent period of his presentation, Dean decided to build an image for himself: that of a strong alpha. John's support was fundamental, and his father always encouraged his unusual behavior. For John, one of the biggest concerns was Sam's safety, and an "alpha" brother was much better to protect another boy than an omega.

There were many sacrifices. Dean always made a point of being the best at whatever he did. In consequence, today he’s the best hunter on the planet. But his very definite idea of how to be alpha was shaken by his heat, and his real aversion to his biology was brought back to life with full force. The lack of control he felt was frightening, and all the possible consequences of knotting with Sam is still the cause of nightmares.

Then, sometime after his heat, he became aware that he could never be the alpha that Sam needs and wants. At that moment he decided that the best option was to break up with his brother. He knows he did it the hard way possible, undoing the relationship between them by going out with women. However, his betrayal didn’t work as expected and months later his little brother is gradually wasting away.

It turns out he can’t see Sam suffer anymore. He’s also tired of suffering. All the sex he had with random people just left him with a feeling of emptiness inside. The best option is for them to deal with the problems together, even if it’s scary.

So, Dean decides it's time to ask for forgiveness, hoping his brother can forgive him. He drains his beer and stands up, ready to face his brother.

His anxiety increases during the ride to the Bunker. When he gets home, he needs a beer before talking to Sam. Therefore, Dean goes to the kitchen before walking to Sam’s bedroom. At this precise moment, he hears a groan.

Immediately his hunter and older brother's instincts are awakened; he pulls the gun from the back waistband of his jeans, heading for Sam's room silently.

As he moves toward, he notices the noise isn't of pain, but of pleasure, and Dean thinks his brother is probably masturbating.

When he sees the bedroom door slightly open, his curiosity is higher than the respect for Sam's private moment. So, he approaches, putting his gun back in his waistband. However, he has to bite his tongue hard to suppress an exclamation of surprise as he watches what’s happening.

The alpha is lying on his back on the bed, legs spread. And Max is standing between them with his left hand caressing his brother's hard cock and the other in the middle of his brother’s long legs.

Because of the angle, the view isn’t entirely clear, but as he hears Sam's moans and sees the movements of his hips, there’s almost certainty that Max – _damn beta_ – has his fingers inside his little brother’s opening.

He can’t believe it. Anger and jealousy are all he feels when Max catches Sam by the waist and pulls him to the edge of the bed, entering him with a single thrust and starting to fuck him fast and hard. The alpha's legs are wide open, and his hands are grabbing the edge of the mattress, trying to hold on. Max's left hand moves to the back of his brother's head, raising it to allow for a hot kiss. But the beta doesn't lose his rhythm, and at the end of the kiss, he accelerates his thrusts, even more, hands now gripping Sam's shoulders.

Dean can't see Sam's cock, but he imagines it's hard by the sounds coming from his brother's mouth and by his movements, which equals those of a whore. Dean knows it’s unfair to blame Sam, but with what’s happening right before his eyes, he can’t control himself. And he keeps watching nevertheless. It's his punishment.

The alpha takes his hands off the mattress and holds his own thighs open for Max, his ass frantically pushing up, against the younger man’s powerful impulses.

Sick jealousy gnaws Dean's guts. Max shouldn't be there. Dean should be there, where he belongs. Well, he belonged before throwing everything up.

Even with Dean's negative feelings at the moment, his cock begins to swell in his jeans as Max pulls out of Sam and drags his brother out of bed, turning and bending him over it.

The beta pushes his cock back into his little brother's entrance and resumes his thrusts with one hand pressed to Sam’s belly – next to his navel – and the other on his left shoulder.

Dean tries to convince himself that his erection is just an automatic response from his body and can't decide what to do. He wants to masturbate until he comes seeing his brother getting fucked, but he also wants to stop what's happening, rip his brother out of Max's arms and break the witch's neck.

However, he does nothing except look.

Now Dean can see his brother's hand stroking his own cock. The alpha’s pleasure is obvious, especially when he leans over and hides his face on the pillow, trying to stifle his moans. Consequently, Dean remembers the times when he fucked his little brother like that. He also reminds his groans, the dirty words that came from his mouth, the taste of Sam's mouth and skin, and the exquisite heat surrounding his cock.

His attention immediately turns to Sam's reactions. He needs to know if his little brother's pleasure is greater now rather than when Dean fucked him. The comparisons are inevitable in his mind, particularly when he watches the alpha moaning like a bitch under the witch's hands.

Dean curses himself again for ruining everything. Sam had always been everything to him, and the loss of that part of their relationship was more difficult than Dean had imagined. Guilt comes back haunting him because of all those women he fucked in the cities where they worked, even though it was hurting his little brother. He saw the looks of disappointment and even jealousy.

Now, he thinks he's having a taste of his own venom, which, however, doesn’t diminish the anger growing in his chest.

Finally, without being able to keep seeing the two men fucking, he walks away and goes to his bedroom, slamming the door hard on purpose, intentionally wanting to be heard by Sam and Max.

It doesn’t take long for him to hear voices and footsteps from the corridor, but it isn’t possible to understand what’s being said.

Dean is almost sure Max is leaving. It’s is confirmed when a furious alpha walks through the door of his bedroom wearing only tight black briefs, which only accentuates the beauty of his body.

Sam practically drags Dean from the bed, pushing him against the wall, hands on his collar.

"What's your problem, Dean? What are you doing here now, and more importantly, why don’t you just mind your own business and leave in peace?”

A muscular thigh is placed between his legs, pressing Dean’s cock, which inevitably gets interested in the scenery.

"Max was embarrassed when he realized you had arrived. And he was afraid of your reaction. That's why he thought it best to leave.”

"Did you at least come?" Dean asks in an ironic tone of voice.

"Fucker! You're a hypocrite.” Sam's big hands tighten, the scent of sweat and sex coming from him invading Dean's nose, making his dick get hard fast.

"If you'd rather be fucked by a kid than by a man, it’s your problem."

Obviously, that isn’t true. But in the heat of the moment, it’s impossible to be rational.

Dean avoids a smile of satisfaction when he feels the alpha getting hard too.  

"Are you jealous, Dean? Well, you wouldn’t fuck me, so I arranged someone who would do that, and what the Beta has in the middle of the legs is certainly nothing like that of a kid.”

Sam's words are a hit to Dean's manhood and his status as omega. And he can only react in a way in the kind of situation. Then, in a movement practiced many times before in training, he turns the game, and in seconds he has Sam shoved against the wall with an arm effectively on his neck, immobilizing the alpha’s movements.

Even being an omega, Dean has always been a better fighter than his brother.

Fight.

The essence of Dean's life since he was four years old. He’s a predator, a machine that can kill in the blink of an eye. His brother, in contrast, only doesn’t have that in him; although he’s an alpha, his sweet little brother prefers words and the fists only as a last resort.

So, Dean doesn't need much effort to have the upper hand, especially with the jealousy running through his veins.

"After my heat, I just didn't know what to do. I thought you'd be better without me," he admits.

"And you wasted no time in chasing every tail that you saw in front of you. All those women. And you barely looked at me all this time. Do you know how much it hurt me?"

Dean has the decency to look embarrassed at the hurt evident in his brother's eyes.

"At least, you never had to watch. What do you think I felt when I saw that Beta fucking you?"

Dean is driven by jealousy once more when he remembers what he saw in Sam's bedroom. As a result, he has a hand possessively on the side of Sam’s face, pulling him and kissing him roughly. Sam’s mouth opens to him, and he tastes like beer. The alpha only hesitates for a second before returning the kiss.

No more words are needed, at least for now, and they succumb to desire and passion.

It's easy to get in tune with each other again, and soon Sam has his ass in the air and his chest on the bed, holding the sheets tightly while Dean eats his ass like there's no tomorrow. He alternates between licks along the alpha’s hole and perineum and blowing his hard cock. There’s no hesitation when his brother's knot begins to swell.

The alpha is moaning and muttering "Oh, yeah!" And "Fuck." His little brother looks briefly over his shoulder as Dean inserts a finger into his entrance. He's still open by the previous fuck with Max, but Dean likes to see Sam wrecking beneath his fingers and tongue.

Dean stops his ministrations when he knows that Sam is close, wanting his brother to come when he's inside him.

He crowds right up against Sam's back, moving forward with his hips without, however, penetrating him yet. He holds Sam's chin in one hand, asking, "How do you want it? Hard or soft?” His dick is insistently against the crack of his brother's ass.

“Wanna it hard as you can go,” Sam says moaning loudly.

“Can you take it?”

“Yeah…”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure, Dean,” Sam confirms squirming underneath him.

When Dean finally is balls deep inside him, they both groan, and Sam begins moving his hips back and forth, fucking himself on his brother’s cock. He's on all fours while Dean’s on his knees between the long legs, his hands on Sam’s waist, holding him there in a death grip.

Dean sees drops of sweat running down Sam’s body and intends not to let anyone else touch him again.

The omega starts his thrusts, and Sam's moans increase in volume. Dean pulls the other man into his chest, wrapping his left arm in his little brother's chest and allowing the perfect leverage for a hard and fast fuck.

Sam shivers beneath his touch, and Dean groans at the feel of his lover’s heat around his cock.

It’s perfect. Taking Sam’s body like this always thrills him. The alpha is regularly so responsive and trusting. He gives himself utterly to Dean, sending his libido into a thunderstorm of need.

After a few seconds, he releases Sam, pulling away a little to see his cock in and out of his brother's asshole. This never fails to fascinate him, as something so huge can fit perfectly into something so small and fragile.

Soon he speeds up the intensity of his thrusts, skin against skin, and Sam makes an almost pained sound followed by groans of pleasure.

Missing a kiss, he pulls Sam’s head at an awkward angle, fiercely attacking the alpha’s lips before pushing him completely into the bed, all without losing the rhythm of his hips.

It's all so vertiginous. So many months of separation leaving no room to make love; fire and lust running through Dean’s veins.

After a few more thrusts Sam turns his long neck again, and Dean wastes no time invading the perfect mouth with his tongue, accelerating his impulses once more. When the kiss ends, Dean's right hand goes to Sam's chin and the left on his head, forcing him on the mattress while still fucking him senseless.

"You said you could take it, baby."

“Yeah. C’mon, fuck me hard, Dean.”

Accepting the challenge, Dean raises his upper body, and holds both hands on Sam's shoulders, accelerating his impulses impossibly. He watches Sam tighten the bed sheets, probably trying to avoid being thrown to the floor.

Everything is so intense, painful, and wonderful at the same time.

Distracted, Dean only realizes that his brother came when he feels the tightness around his cock. And the extra sensation is enough to send Dean over the edge. So, he thrusts deep inside his little brother a few more times before the pleasure of orgasm leaves him boneless.

Sam's breathlessly under him, his asshole milking him of every drop of cum.

When Dean regains his breath, he slides out carefully and drops beside the alpha, who's smiling satisfied.

“Nothing better than a job well done.” Dean jokes because he’s afraid to deal with a strange situation between them now that the sex frenzy has passed. However, his brother is calm and relaxed.

"Jerk," he laughs, showing his dimples.

Even though the lightness of the moment, Dean gets serious and brushes his thumb over Sam's jaw.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy." The excuses are sincere and evidently don't fix everything, yet it's a start.

"I'm sorry for everything too, Dean," Sam says quietly.

He pulls his little brother on his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. They need to sort out a lot of things between them, but not today. What matters now is that his world is infinitely better with Sam in his arms.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the delay, guys. I tried, but it was impossible for me to write during the holidays and my vacation - family, dogs, travel...hahaha.  
> Have fun with the chapter!

Sam wakes up slowly, and his mind is confused about his surroundings. There is heat from another body at his side, and he hears the rhythmic sound of someone snoring. His hunter instincts were not triggered, so he knows he's safe. He opens his eyes slowly, and memories of the night before returning to his brain; his breaking point and the consequences of it – Max and his big brother.

He thought he could fuck another man and forget Dean or relieve his pain at least. It didn’t work, nor made his pathetic attempt at revenge. The omega was the only one on his mind during his moments with Max, countless memories of the times when they had sex disturbing his fragile emotions. Dean's interruption was a relief, despite the anger he felt at that moment.

Sam turns his head to look at his sleeping brother. The omega is the example of perfection, every trace of his harmonious face resulting in an unusual beauty. He wants to touch the freckles scattered across Dean's face but doesn’t want to wake the omega from his peaceful sleep.

Sam moves his body until he is on his side, which allows the contemplation of every detail of the sleeping man without effort. Not knowing what to feel, after all, the months of suffering and uncertainty cannot be erased overnight, he just looks at Dean and avoids thinking about anything. There will be plenty of time for this later.

He notices the growing volume in Dean's groin and smiles. Sam isn’t able to count how many times he was awakened by the omega morning wood. Dean loves sex at any time of day, but he seems even more turned on when they do it at first thing in the morning. Smiling, Sam decides to please his brother.

Carefully, he pulls off the sheet that is covering their bodies, turning his attention to the omega’s thick member, which is almost entirely erect. The scene makes Sam's mouth water. With practiced efficiency, he moves between his brother's legs.

Just a few licks and the beautiful cock is resting rigidly against Dean's stomach. Sam wraps a hand around it, bringing the member near his mouth. The small drop of pre-come catches his attention for a moment, and he licks it gently, the omega’s familiar taste bursting across his tongue. Then he takes the tip in his mouth, sucking and licking it. It’s by pure instinct that his brother's hips rise off the bed slightly because Sam can see he’s still asleep. A soft moan escapes from the omega’s partially open lips, and Sam is always amazed at the fact that the omega's body is so desperate for it even asleep.

Sam swallows the length and starts sucking it with enthusiasm. He never gets tired of it, the texture and the taste of it making his excitement increase until he has his own hard-on against the sheets.   

A loud gasp is released from Dean's lips, and Sam knows he's about to wake up. But that's not how he wants the omega to wake up, so Sam swallows the cock in his mouth as much as he can, wetting it with saliva as much as possible. It's all he's going to have to ease the way, and it's all he wants. Satisfied, he lets the member slips from his mouth, moving in bed to straddle Dean's lap.

Holding the omega's cock in one hand, he moves it to his entrance. Then he sits down slowly, letting gravity do the rest and stopping only when he feels his brother's pubic hairs against his balls.

For precious seconds all there’s is the feeling of the omega's member impossibly deep and hot inside him. But he doesn’t wait long enough to adjust – even though he's still sore from last night – and begins fucking himself down on Dean’s cock. He arches his back, sliding his body up and pushing back down slowly.

When his eyes search for Dean's face again, he stares at sleepy green eyes but full of lust.

“Morning,” the omega grunts, his voice still hoarse from sleep.  

He leans forward, finding Dean’s mouth, and his big brother melts into it.  

“God, I love being woken up like this, baby.”

“I know,” Sam says, exploring the warm skin of Dean's neck, kissing and licking, the taste so familiar on his tongue that it hurts. He can’t miss it again. He could not stand the pain.

Sam shifts his ass in slow circles. He always loves the feeling of fullness, of being taken. And his brother doesn’t disappoint him, grabbing Sam’s hips and taking over totally. Dean forces Sam to bounce up and down on his dick while thrusting up into him again and again.

The constant assault against his prostate makes Sam moan loudly, his hard cock hitting his stomach with every thrust of the man beneath him.

Suddenly his center of gravity changes dramatically, and he finds himself being pushed against the bed, the omega kneeling between his legs. Dean slams inside him again, fucking him hard until his orgasm rips through him mercilessly, body trembling with pleasure.

Sam goes limp after that, the legs that are wrapped around the omega’s waist falling on the bed. It doesn’t take long for Dean to reach his own climax, emptying his load inside Sam and collapsing on top of him for a few seconds, before getting off him.  

They lie facing each other as they catch their breaths.

A few minutes pass, and there’s a change in the omega's countenance. He knows what Dean is going to do, but he doesn’t want to have this conversation now. He isn’t prepared for it.

“Sammy, about what I did,” Dean begins.

“Dean... he tries interrupting his brother, but the other man silences him with a finger over his lips.

“Shh. I want to try to explain. I need this and you too.” The seriousness of the omega's expression makes Sam agree.

Dean sits against the headboard, pulling the sheet over his crotch. Not wanting to have this conversation in the vulnerable position he is in, Sam does the same and waits until the omega begins to speak.

Dean's hands play with the sheet, showing his nervousness.

“My heat. I've never felt so powerless in my life, and it was scary.”

He knows how control is vital to his big brother, but he's not sure he can understand Dean's actions after his heat. Sam also has to deal with all issues related to the biology that he hates, and he doesn’t go around fucking other people because of it.

“After…I didn’t want that to happen again, and with you being an alpha…I didn’t want to take risks. Everything would have gone to hell if you had knotted me.”

Sam is sure of that. None of them ever wanted that. Role-reversal has always been the norm in their relationship, and the contrary is unthinkable for Sam. _God, they are fucked_.

“The only solution I found was to get away from you.” The omega is the picture of misery, and Sam wants to touch him; however, this isn’t the right time.

“I can’t give you what you want. As much as I pretend to be an alpha, I live trapped in an omega’s body. I thought you'd have a chance if you'd get mad at me. I know what I did is unforgivable, but…” A tear trickles down the omega’s face, and Sam's heart breaks down once more. The pain is still very raw, but his eyes remain dry, and Sam’s only movement is to reach for Dean's hand, holding it tight.

For a few moments they remain like this, fingers entwined and silent until Sam feels confident enough to speak.

“I…”

“No, Sam.” Dean finally looks into his eyes. “Don’t say anything. I don’t need forgiveness or hear you also feel sorry or how much I made you suffer. I was there and know that. I'm guilty and don’t deny it.”

“Dean,” Sam tries one more time. He can’t say he forgives Dean. Not yet. But there is a need to assure his big brother that they will be fine.

However, the omega interrupts him again, “Please, Sammy.” And puppy dog eyes that rival his convince Sam to retreat.

Then he puts all his heart in the kiss that follows it, trying to say with his lips what he cannot with his voice, feeling the salt of Dean's tears in his tongue. There is nothing sexual about it, just comfort and acceptance.

The omega’s hands reach for his hair, and he intensifies the kiss. And it’s the representation of the powerful connection between them, of the feeling that they belong to each other, yesterday, today, and tomorrow. The kiss also establishes a compromise between them, that from now on they will try to solve the problems together, no matter the consequences.

Sam gives in to the kiss, the feeling of helplessness against his brother's touch stronger than ever and they end up cuddling in bed, Dean a solid presence against his back. Their fingers are intertwined again, now against Sam's stomach, and it's enough for now.

*****

Two days and a lot of sex later, with Sam being fucked on every available surface of the Bunker, they're in the library researching a new case. Sam knows he needs to tell his brother about the research he has done, and the perfect moment he wants never happens. So, he decides to do it now.

“Dean?” He calls his big brother's name softly.

Dean looks up from the book he is reading and his expression changes to concern. The omega can always read Sam's emotions easily and today is no different.

“What's the matter, Sammy?”

“I…” he starts, but suddenly the words are gone, and insecurity is all that's left. _What if Dean hates the idea? What if he doesn’t want it?_

Taking a deep breath, he clears his throat before beginning to explain, “You know how I feel about being alpha. And it has gotten worse in the last few years.”

“I know that. My situation isn’t very different from yours, Sam.”

Both have faced numerous problems because of their biology, but still, Sam has a hard time explaining what he's been doing.

“I heard rumors on one of our hunts,” he says, and his extensive vocabulary seems to have run out the window.

“About what?” Dean questions.

“A ritual.”

“Is this what you have been researching?”

His research didn’t go unnoticed after all. And neither could that, considering he lives with the best hunter on the planet.

“Yeah,” he says shyly.

“I wanna know all about it, Sammy.”

Dean's big smile eases the grip he has on his stomach, and in the next twenty minutes Sam explains to his brother what he’s looking for, his unsuccessful research so far, and his intention to call Rowena to help.

“Do you think there’s a solution somewhere?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, but something like that falling into the wrong hands must be catastrophic. I think it's very well hidden,” Sam says, and the frustration is evident in his tone of voice.

With a sigh, he leans back against his chair as his long fingers trace the outline of the book on the table.

Another worry occupies his mind suddenly. “Are you okay with this?” He needs to know. Imposing something like it for his brother, against his will, was never Sam's intention.

“Are you kidding me? Become the alpha that I always wanted to be. To be able to live without fear of having to face another heat. And see you happy in your own skin, Sammy. There's nothing I want more than that.”

It's all Sam wants to hear, and the tightness in his stomach disappears.

“Talk to Rowena and see if she can help. I'll arrange a hunt for us,” the omega says, and Sam’s hope comes up again.

*****

Gradually everything returns to normal between them. Both forgive each other after a few more heartfelt conversations. And even self-forgiveness ends up happening to them, putting all those terrible months behind them.

Certain insecurity still comes up from time to time – especially in a bar full of pretty women – but Dean's behavior is impeccable and not even the usual flirtations Sam has seen lately. He knows that is overreacting because the omega gave no reason for suspicion after they came back together.

Besides that, it was Sam who insisted on going out tonight.

The bar is crowded when Dean refuses the second girl to hit him without any hesitation. Only then does Sam relax a little and begins to enjoy the night off.

He only has eyes for his brother, who’s making some money on the pool table. The omega’s movements are perfect, and Sam is so distracted by him that he barely notices the bartender interested in him.

“New in town or are you just passing by?” The question makes Sam take his eyes off his brother, staring at the man behind the counter. He’s handsome, strong and almost as tall as Sam.

“The second alternative,” he responds by education, and all he wants is continuing to appreciate his beautiful brother. But the bartender is deliberate and devours Sam with his eyes.

“It's not every day that someone like you comes here.” The man smiles at him, and Sam blushes, shy with the praise, which is nothing original by the way. Even getting a lot of attention – by men and women – he never feels comfortable, and in those moments he’s envious of Dean and his charm in dealing with such situations.

This time, though, he doesn’t have to worry because he feels the iron grip of a hand on his waist at the same time that the omega’s scent hits his nose.

“I missed you at the pool table, baby.” The grip on Sam’s waist increases with every word vocalized by Dean.

The surprise in the bartender's gaze turns to disappointment, and Sam feels the need to placate his brother before the situation gets any worse.

“You looked busy, Dean,” he says, turning his face to the omega and using his nonverbal communication skills.

“I'm sorry, baby, and I'm all yours now.” Before any reaction from him, Dean pulls his head in for a kiss, the hand on Sam’s waist coming down close to his ass dangerously.

The first touch of Dean's lips is enough to make Sam stop paying attention to the bartender, and everything else disappears when the experienced tongue invades his mouth. It's so good to kiss the omega, and Sam gives in completely until he hears the sound of glass breaking.

Both look at the source of the noise in time to see pieces of broken glass on the counter. The guys’ face clearly showing that the act was calculated.

“Hey, dude, be careful not to get hurt,” Dean says, winking at the man, who now looks angry.

His big brother doesn’t even hesitate at the sudden hostility, and the next minute the omega manhandles Sam through the bar, only stopping when the alpha’s facing a wall.

He barely has time to process what is happening, and Dean is a wall himself behind him. Strong hands run through his body until one stop on Sam’s belly; not close enough to his swelling cock.

“Dean?”

“Shh, no one is going to hit you in front of me and walk away without consequences.”

He should protest because they are in public, even though only the bartender has a privileged view of them, but it’s difficult to be rational when he feels the other man's erection against his ass.

“What do you think? Would your new friend like to watch the big alpha by whom he thought he would be fucked being bred like a bitch in heat?” Dean asks between licks and kisses on his neck.

Goosebumps erupt on his body and intensify when Dean’s hot fingers find his sensitive nipples.

“Oh, God!”

Dean continues his assault, and Sam is already painfully hard in his pants.

“Do you think he would dislike it or enjoy watching us? From what I can see from here, he seems interested in what’s happening.”

It’s a mystery to Sam as his brother still manages to pay attention to another person even busy molesting him.

“I bet he's hard and wet, wanting to free his prick to have some relief.”

Sam opens his legs wider, writhing between Dean's hand and groin. He wants the omega’s hand on his cock desperately, but the other man doesn’t seem to want to make things easier for him. This is clear when thick fingers get into Sam’s pants and stop over his pubic hairs. The contact of warm skin against his dick making Sam moan.

“Fuck, Dean.”

“I bet he'd love to see what I want to do with you. He wouldn’t be able to look away as I'm pushing you against the counter, where you bend over without shame, your round ass on display for everyone to see. You open your legs, always so eager for your big brother. Then, my hands are on your belt, opening it in the bar suddenly silent.”

_Fucking dirty mouth_. Sam is already so close, and his cock hasn’t even been appropriately touched yet.

“I push pants and underwear down your legs, stopping only when you’re naked from the waist down, and I can hear sighs of admiration all around us. I caress the firm globes, and they are tempting. I slap them before I open it.”

“Oh, God, Dean!” He’s falling apart in his brother’s hands and against the wall of any bar. Then, he forgets his inhibitions, moaning loudly.

Dean continues rubbing himself against his ass, and the hand on his pants doesn’t move. And it's the sweetest torture.

“You're still wet from our previous fuck. Semen and lube shining over the abused hole. I hear people approaching to get a better view, and I growl when they’re too close. But I move a little to the side, exposing your asshole with pride. I hear words of approval and can see you blushing furiously. Your fan doesn’t miss a detail of what’s happening, and I know he’s still hard in his pants.”

“Please…please,” he begs, needing his brother in him now or the omega’s hand around his dick. Yet the older man does none of those things – it's not that kind of a bar at all – and words are still being spoken against his ear.

“I'm rock hard and needing relief for my prick still stuck in my pants. I open it with one hand, and in seconds I have my big cock free and proud against my belly. You’re the sight of sin, bent over the counter and contracting your little hungry hole.”

“Fuck…fuck,” Sam curses, effectively trapped between one hand and the omega’s groin. He’s on the edge and so helpless, but Dean won’t let him come; not ahead of time, anyway.

“I can’t wait any longer, not with you so beautiful, obedient, and waiting to be taken. So, with one hand I hold my dick, stroking it before lining it up against your ass. Everyone is looking expectantly and in silence now. I look directly at the bartender, and with a single push, I’m buried deep inside you. Your scream echoes through the bar with the intrusion, and I hear the sharp intake of breaths around us. The bartender is about to drool through his open mouth. Then I start fucking you with fast and strong thrusts, my hands on your waist, helping to move narrow hips back against my own on every thrust.”

Sam knows he looks a needy and begging mess, but he doesn’t have brain cells intact enough to care at that point. All he wants is to explode in waves of pleasure.

“Out of the corner of my eye, I see some men masturbating and the look of envy on others. My smirk is inevitable, but your muffled moans call my attention, and I realize you have the mouth against your right arm, trying to avoid making noise. The Neanderthal in me won’t tolerate that, and I hold your hair with one hand, pulling your head back so everyone can hear the groans of pleasure.”   

Sam is sure that identical groans are coming out of his mouth now while he writhes again and again; the scene that Dean is creating so vivid in his mind.

“The bartender looks in shock while I'm fucking you, and my satisfaction is immense. I'm showing him and everyone that you have an owner, that the big alpha is a little slut for my cock.”

“Dean…Please,” he whispers roughly, and his entrance is twitching with the need to be filled. If he were an omega, inevitably he would be soaked by now.

“You're so tight around me, and I know I'll cum soon. But I want to make you lose it first. So, I make you spread your legs wider, angling your ass out and thrusting in harder.”

His big brother’s breath is hot against his ear, and Dean strong scent is overloading his senses.

“The new angle is just right for you, and it doesn’t take long for you to cum with a scream, squeezing my cock tighter and sucking it deep inside you. The bartender finally lost control, and I can see the wet spot on the front of his pants. Lesson learned. Only then I let go, pulling my dick out of you and painting your ass cheeks in white as the customers clap their hands with enthusiasm.”

Who’s going to lose control is Sam, and he thinks he could pass out from it.

“De…” He barely has the strength to say his brother's name.

“Well, I think your admirer in the real world also needs a lesson.”

With that the omega pulls him off the wall, holding Sam tightly against his chest and turning him to face the bartender as the hand on his groin reaches for his aching cock.

“Come,” orders Dean, and Sam’s orgasm hits him immediately, calling the omega’s name and staring at the bartender. He feels like he's coming forever, and the man's gaze behind the counter is of the lust, envy, and anger.

Sam collapses back against his brother, who holds him firmly against his muscular chest.

_He is mine_. Sam hears Dean say next to his ear, and he knows those words are for the bartender. He expects the man to be good at lip reading because it’s impossible for him to hear his brother from that distance.

“Jesus Christ, Dean!” He tries sounding indignant, but it doesn’t work of course.

“It's not over yet, baby,” at that moment Sam notes his brother is still hard against his ass. “But let's finish this at the motel.”

Dean puts a hand on his waist and leads him toward the exit. When Sam notices anyone can see the large wet spot on his groin, he blushes furiously. Apparently, today wasn’t a good day to wear just a white T-shirt and leather jacket.

The omega makes a point of passing by the bar, smirking at the bartender, who licks his lips suggestively and looks at Sam. This is still a challenge, and despite the hand on his waist tighten almost to the point of pain, Dean continues walking to the exit, probably more concerned about his erection.

On the way back to the motel, Sam decides to do his own teasing, his long fingers lightly touching Dean's thigh and groin. And by the time the Impala stops in the parking lot, both are hard and in need of relief.

As soon as the passenger door is closed, Sam’s pushed against it. And there are mouth and hands exploring his body, and they don’t leave it for a second during their way to the room.

Distracted with his brother and the fire in his veins, Sam only realizes that they aren’t alone in the room too late.

He’s pulled out of the omega’s arms, and the last thing Sam hears before the world turns black is his brother’s desperate voice calling out for him.


	9. Chapter 9

Bright lights on the ceiling. It’s the first thing he notices on waking up. But the clarity is excessive for his eyes, and he closes them quickly.

After that, he feels a sting on his arm and the little bit of awareness he had begins to get lost again. Before he falls into oblivion, however, he hears voices – _it’s too early, he isn’t ready for it_ – whoever he may be.

The next time he wakes up there is only pain and disorientation. His body burns and the internal organs seem to be re-arranging.

He doesn’t know who he is, what is happening or where he is.

Words come to his ears again – _alpha, omega, Winchesters, process, It’s not long until we finish it_ – but he doesn’t know what they mean.

A new sting on his arm and everything is gone once more.

Waking up again is less frightening. There’s no pain or fire in his body; just numbness. The disorientation persists, but he can keep his eyes open.

Everything is excessively white, and for a moment he thinks he's in a hospital. But then realizes that isn’t the case. There is an armed man by the door, and everyone wears masks. Two people are examining his body, which only now he notes to be naked on a hospital-type bed.

He doesn’t want anyone touching him, but his body doesn’t respond, and it’s impossible even to move the fingers.

Fear grips him. He can’t feel the hands touching him. Suddenly, someone's touch is absent; someone who isn’t here. He doesn’t know who is missing, only that he needs him.

The feeling of emptiness increases and the attempt to speak doesn’t work; his mouth doesn’t cooperate.

Every inch of his body is examined, and he watches helplessly and ashamed when his legs are opened. He knows that shouldn’t be touched like this. Not by these people, anyway. The attempt to scream doesn’t work, and his indignation isn’t perceived. Everyone seems to ignore his open eyes.

A man walks into the room and approaches the bed. He doesn’t wear a mask and the look of approval when someone says the process is over and apparently has succeeded makes him apprehensive. The man is in his fifties, and the scar on the right side of the face accentuates the danger radiating from him.

_God! What did they do to him?_

The man comes closer and looks into his eyes.

“Congratulations, boy! The experience was a success.” The hand on his cheek smells like cigarettes, and the voice is from someone accustomed to ordering. He thinks the man can be a member of the armed forces.

_Don’t touch me, you son of a bitch!_ He wants to punch the man, wants to regain control of his body. Nothing happens yet, and for a second, he has the impression that this lack of control isn’t new in his life. But he can’t remember.

“Ah, my sweet boy with eyes so expressive.” The disgusting hand continues caressing his cheek. _Somebody help me._

“We’re going to have so much fun together, sweetheart,” the man says maliciously as moves the hand down his body until it reaches between his legs.

It’s terrifying, even without the ability to feel and see clearly what’s happening. And it's a nightmare, but his screams remain just inside his head.

“Oh, sweetheart! Don’t worry. It won’t just be sex between us. I promise.”

The man comes back close to his head, and the same hand that was between his legs approaches his face again. The fingers are wet when the man moves them to his own mouth. "So pure, the taste of fear is intoxicating, boy."

The intent behind the blue eyes is clear, and he thinks death would be a better option. If he could choose, but this isn’t the case.

“Sir? We're ready,” a female voice says.

“Perfect.”

His tormentor looks at him again. “Everything's going to be all right, sweetheart. Soon we’ll be together again, and you will be mine forever.”

The prospect is terrible, and he watches the man smile one last time before leaving the room.

And for the first time since all this began a concern emerges in his mind: _who is he?_

There is no time for any elaboration on that, however, because someone approaches him with an injection in his hand.

_Not again. Please!_

No one notices his affliction, and he falls into oblivion once more.

*****  
  
Dean Winchester is a furious man. The confined space is claustrophobic, and the absence of his brother occupies his thoughts since he woke up in this damn cell.

He has no idea where he’s or why they were kidnapped. Food and water are delivered to him through an opening in the door, and any attempt to communicate with his captors has been unsuccessful.

He tried, but there is no escape from this place.

By his calculations, today is the tenth day after he first woke up in captivity. There is no news about his brother, and Dean's concern increases with time.

Dean knows he has many enemies, but if that were the case, there would be a lot of pain so far. Or maybe this isolation is how they intend to break him. And it's working. All he can think of is Sam and what can happen to the alpha.

Guilty invades him once more when he looks at the marks on the wall, that he has done to avoid losing track of time. If he didn’t act like a horny teenager and acted like the fucking hunter he’s, they wouldn’t have been kidnapped.

Dean will never forgive himself if anything happens to his little brother.

_Damn it_. All his bad words have been used more than ten times, but even then, he has been ignored.

An alarm sounds and red lights flash on the ceiling. That's not a good sign.

There is movement on the door, and Dean positions himself in a way to surprise who’s entering the cell.

“Dean?”

It’s Ketch. The member of the British Men of Letters is smart, avoiding a possible confrontation.

“Yeah. It's me,” Dean responds.

The door barely opens, and Ketch is already pulling him by the arm.

“We have to get out of here. Someone hit the self-destruct button before we could stop him.”

Ketch continues to pull him through the corridors as quickly as possible.

“And Sam?”

The hell with the self-destruction, because he won’t leave without his little brother.

“We found him before you. Mick already took him out.”

Despite the stress of escape, the relief is immediate. Sam's safety is always a priority for him.

He puts all his energy in getting out of this hell, and everything explodes as soon as they are a few steps from the compound. Both fly through the air and hitting hard on the ground, the grass reducing the impact a little.

The noise is loud, and he protects the head with his arms. When it all ends, Dean looks around, searching for the reason of his life.

Sam is out of reach of the explosion, with Mick standing next to him and checking for vital signs.

Dean's heart skips a beat. _God! Sam needs to be alive_.

Without thinking twice, he stands up and goes to his brother, legs trembling in the face of uncertainty.

“Sammy?” He calls his brother, kneeling beside the younger man. The hand reaching for Sam's neck shakes lightly.

“He's apparently fine, Dean,” Mick assures as Dean feels the strong pulse under his fingers.

There is no guilt when Ketch comes to them limping. The other man knows Dean's priorities well.

“We need to examine him better, Dean. There are needle marks on his arms.” Mick points to one of Sam's arms, and Dean is pure rage again. There are several marks on his brother's skin and various stages of healing. It’s very likely this has happened since the beginning of the kidnapping.

Dean definitely wants to kill someone; however, Sam's well-being comes first.

“Yeah, but let's do it in the Bunker,” Dean’s tone admits no argument.

The other men agree, and with military efficiency, they are ready to leave in minutes.

Bringing members of the British Men of Letters to the Bunker isn’t Dean’s best idea, but the guys saved their lives. Besides that, he wants his little brother to wake up in a familiar environment.

Dean strokes Sam's hair, wanting to see the green eyes open.

“It's going to be all right, Sammy,” he promises softly, and there's no answer from the man on his lap.

The uncertainty of what happened to his brother makes Dean apprehensive, and ideas go through his head, none of them good.

Despite the whiteness and thinness of the tall body, there seems to be nothing wrong with Sam. However, the lack of response indicates the alpha is drugged and by the number of marks on his arms it’s obvious they did something with him. The question is what did they do?

He continues caressing his little brother's hair, the other hand over the younger man's heart, feeling the precious beats that indicate the existence of life. He clings to it all the way to the Bunker.

*****

Hours later and his brother is still asleep. His fingers tighten the long ones of the alpha, and words of encouragement and affection don’t stop. Yet there is no reaction from the man in the bed. Clean and in pajamas, Sam sleeps, oblivious to his brother's concern.

A doctor scrutinized Sam, and Dean is grateful for the efficiency with which Mick provided the necessary equipment for that.

Waiting for results is distressing, however.

The explosion didn’t affect him, but Ketch ended up with a sprained ankle. They were lucky because there was nothing left of the compound.

A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts.

“Come in!”

Mick has some papers in his hand. He sits on the chair across the bed, and Dean's apprehension increases. But he needs to know.

“So?”

“Sleep is being caused by tranquilizers. There is nothing to do. We have to wait for him to wake up.”

“And all the marks on his arms?”

“Well...”

Mick's expression isn’t reassuring.

“What’s the matter, man?” He presses the fingers under his, anticipating the worst.

“All we could find out is that there was a molecular change.”

“What does that mean?”

“The comparison with the previous examination shows that a mutation occurred at the molecular level.”

“Shit. And the consequences of that?”

“There’s no telling. The mutation is complete and irreversible, but we can’t figure out what this change did with your brother.”

“Any illness?” _Damn it_. The injustice of all this is discouraging. His little brother has always considered himself a freak, and now the prospect isn’t good at all.

“No. He's in perfect health.”

_Damnit_. The inability to protect his brother makes him angrier.

“We have a theory, however.” From Mick's gaze, Dean knows he won’t like what the other man has to say.

“It's just a theory, Dean.”

“I'm listening,” he grunts, letting his irritation be known.

“Sam was being prepared for transport when we invaded the compound, and the man Ketch killed leaving the scene was one of ours.”

“What the hell? What are you talking about?” He knew he shouldn’t trust them. The British Men of Letters are involved in all this shit.

“Calm down, man. Let me explain that.”

“Don’t leave any detail out.”

“As I said, he was one of ours, until his research on genetic material lost control. British Men of Letters’ Elders discovered the purpose of the research was to transform monsters into super soldiers. They saw the danger that this represented and aborted the research. Drake was furious and rebelled. The Elders put a bounty on his head, but in five years we have never heard from him, until now. I'd rather have caught him alive, but we all had green cards to kill him, and you know Ketch.”

He knows what Mick is talking about, after all, Ketch and he has more in common than Dean would like.

“But Drake pressed a self-destruct button before he died, and everything exploded, as you saw. There was no trace of what he was doing in that place. The only thing we're sure of is that your brother was used in some experience.”

“Damn it! Could he have turned Sam into one of those super soldiers?”

“All the research material was destroyed by the Elders, but in five years it’s possible to do a lot of things. And Drake was primarily responsible for genetic research. So…”

Mick doesn’t have to finish it. Dean can figure it out for himself.

_Shit_. They can’t take a break, and Dean knows he's not ready to deal with RoboSam again.

The hand under his continues without any reaction and Dean is torn between wanting his brother to wake up and the fear of facing the consequences of what they did to him. Sam looks so young and innocent asleep that it's hard to imagine the possibility of a new mortal version of him. His brother would never want that, and Dean doesn’t know what he'll do if Mick is right.

Another issue disturbs Dean.

“Why us?”

Dean’s suspicion grows with the guilty look of the other man.

“I want you to tell me everything,” the threat behind Dean's words is real, and Mick hurries to respond.

“We had an invasion of our system two months ago.”

“Lemme guess, just where you kept our profiles,” he accuses.

“I'm sorry, Dean. There was information about all the American hunters. Maybe you got Drake’s attention because you were technically dead.”

That makes sense. In the case of illegal experiments, nothing better than two dead guys for all purposes.

“And why did no one warn us?”

The expression of guilt that remains on Mick's face doesn’t affect Dean

“Superior orders.”

"Bullshit, man! You should have warned us.”

“It was impossible with Ketch watching me like a hawk, Dean. I'm really sorry.”

“Excuses aren’t going to fix this shit,” Dean’s ability to be polished is reduced to zero when his little brother is in danger. He wants to find those responsible for it and use the techniques he learned from Alastair in hell in each of them.

“I want details about the operation and where I can find each son of a bitch,” it sounds like an order and in a way it’s.

“According to the preliminary investigations, we got them all, Dean.”

There's no way he can believe what Mick is saying.

“I'll give you a copy of what we have, and the investigations will continue. Drake was a dangerous man. The Elders want to make sure there are no ramifications.”

He can’t even fake his suspicion and anger.

“Dean, I know you won’t like this, but it would be wise to tie Sam up before he wakes up. The other…they were violent and without any capacity for logical reasoning.”

_Fucking monsters!_ _How can anyone do this to another human being?_

He holds Sam's hand between his two, and the protectionism that has been part of him since he was four years old takes over. No one else will deal with Sam, regardless of the consequences.

“Listen up, Mick! No one is going to get me off guard once more, and anyone who approaches Sam with bad intentions won’t survive, be a member of the British Men of Letters or not.”

This time he'll be sure to keep his little brother safe.

“All right, man. I'm by your side. So much so that it was a trustworthy person who examined Sam. And there is no record on that. I'll make sure nobody knows about your brother.”

Dean can see the man is trying. Plus, it's better to have someone inside the British Men of Letters, even though he can’t trust Mick completely.

“Do your best, Mick.” It's a truce. “Please,” he adds.

“I promise,” it's the only thing Mick says when leaves the room, letting Dean bitter about the uncertainty of what's going to happen.

But at any moment does he let go of the inert hand between his two. 

*****

Dean loses track of time, but when he feels the tiny movement of the long fingers under his hand, his heart accelerates.

Joy, relief, expectation, and fear overwhelm his senses.

The movement under the closed eyelids shows that his little brother is struggling to wake up.

“C’mon, kiddo. You can do this. Wake up,” he encourages.

Sam's head moves toward Dean, and he knows the alpha can hear him.

“Enough sleeping beauty, man. I'm bored. Open your eyes, Sammy. C’mon.” Although the joke doesn’t seem appropriate right now, Dean needs this. The older brother who loves to annoy this pain in the ass little brother.

“If I have to spend another hour looking at your ugly face, I'm going to die of boredom, sweetheart.”

Eyelids finally uncover the eyes Dean loves so much, but there's something wrong with his brother.

“Sammy?”


End file.
